


Parts Of Me Still Unbroken

by morganoconner



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-01
Updated: 2010-07-01
Packaged: 2017-10-18 06:00:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/185766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morganoconner/pseuds/morganoconner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam finds a way to offer comfort to a broken archangel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Parts Of Me Still Unbroken

“He should have left me dead.”

It’s the first full sentence Sam hears out of the resurrected archangel, and it’s so wildly out of character for the very little bit he knows of Gabriel that for a moment, he thinks he must have heard wrong. But when it isn’t followed up by anything more than stubborn silence, he realizes Gabriel meant it.

Sam doesn’t remember much about the day Gabriel was brought back, left with Sam for a reason only God himself is aware of. All he knows is that when he’d woken up one day not long after his own trip back from Hell, felt a cool hand on his forehead, heard that familiar voice, he’d been sure it was some sort of trick…not of Gabriel’s doing, but of Lucifer’s. It had seemed so unbelievable that he’d yelled himself hoarse for Castiel, and when the he’d felt the familiar presence of the newly-made archangel, Sam had wasted no time demanding an explanation. He won’t soon forget Castiel’s response.

“My Father brought you both back for a reason, Sam, one that I was not made aware of. But I do believe you’re meant to help each other.”

“I don’t need help,” Sam had responded immediately. Because yes, having the remains of Lucifer’s grace pulled from him after he’d taken the time to check on his brother first had obviously left its mark. But he was getting better at handling it, at doing things for himself again.

“Perhaps not,” Castiel had allowed, quietly. “But maybe Gabriel does.”

So Gabriel had stayed, speaking in single word sentences and responses and mostly staying out of Sam’s way except when absolutely necessary.

“Gabriel,” Sam says now, and succeeds in keeping anything that could resemble pity from his voice.

“He took my _grace_ , Sam. To…teach me a lesson.” Gabriel’s laugh is bitter, frustrated. Fierce and dark and hopeless. “He took my _wings_.”

It’s said with such an aching sadness that Sam’s heart clenches, and he can’t speak around it to form a reply.

“You don’t know. You _can’t_ know. An archangel’s wings are… It’s worse than having a piece of your _soul_ torn away. Even without my grace, I should have kept my wings. They’d have been next to useless, I wouldn’t have been able to manifest them or look at them or…. But they’d still _be_ there, if He hadn’t taken them too.”

“Gabriel…”

“It hurts.” The words are whispered, torn from the fallen archangel perhaps unwillingly, and Sam’s hands fist in his lap at the unimaginable pain that leaks through in that voice. “Father, it hurts so _much_.”

Sam’s on his feet before the last word passes Gabriel’s lips, making his way over to him with swift, sure steps. Gabriel is sitting on the window seat, and when Sam’s hand comes down on his shoulder, he jolts, hisses out a breath. Sam sits down so that he’s facing him, and the noise Gabriel makes could be a growl.

“I don’t need… _pity_ , or…or _comfort_.”

“I’m sure you don’t,” Sam says agreeably. “I know it’s not the same thing, but I do get it, a little, you know.” Gabriel shifts, tense and edgy, but stays silent long enough for the hunter to continue. “I know that you feel like you’re trapped here, and that you can’t stand being stuck with someone else who might see you having a hard time, and that you feel abandoned by your family, no matter how much you know, logically, that you haven’t been. I know that you feel like what was taken from you wasn’t fair, and that maybe it would have been better if God had left you wherever he pulled you from. I get _all_ of that, Gabriel, I really do.”

Gabriel is quiet for so long that Sam starts to fidget, sure he must have overstepped some unspoken boundary set up between them. He turns away. He’s about to stand, mumble out an apology and go back to the bed, when Gabriel’s hand on his arm stops him. “I know you do,” is all that he says, but Sam thinks maybe it’s some kind of…acknowledgement. Some kind of invitation for the friendship he’s hesitantly thought about, but never dared ask for.

This close, Sam can smell Gabriel, the sweet smell of candy and mint that even now, even human, Gabriel seemed to hold onto. It’s something so intrinsically _Gabriel_ that Sam can’t help but find comfort in it.

“Quite a pair we make, huh kiddo?”

Even without looking at him, Sam can hear the smile in Gabriel’s voice, and he shoots a crooked one of his own at the archangel. “Yeah, you could say that.” He does get up now, but only to circle around, one hand placed hesitantly on Gabriel’s shoulder as he takes a seat facing Gabriel’s back now.

“Whatcha doin’?” Gabriel asks. It’s meant to sound nonchalant, but Sam can hear the undercurrent of tension that runs through it. He very gently lays a palm flat against Gabriel’s back, right between his shoulder blades…right where he can remember Lucifer’s wings being. Gabriel goes impossibly still, shuddering out a breath. “Sam…”

“Trust me?” Sam asks, so quietly, almost afraid of the answer.

Another tremor runs through Gabriel. “Yes,” he finally says, and Sam remembers to breathe again.

Gabriel is only wearing a t-shirt, the day too warm for anything more, especially since, as nice as the room seemingly is, there’s no air conditioning. Sam worries his lip between his teeth as he takes the hem, lifting it up slowly, hoping Gabriel doesn’t question him, because he’s not entirely sure what answer he’d give right now. He just knows he wants to help, and he knows that he _can_ , if Gabriel lets him.

Gabriel hesitates for a fraction of a second, then lifts his arms, allowing Sam to slip the t-shirt off. As Sam brushes his hands back down Gabriel’s arms, he feels the goosebumps that pebble along the archangel’s skin.

He starts at the base of Gabriel’s spine, tracing patterns along the skin, running light touches back and forth across his back, only moving up a little higher as he feels Gabriel begin to relax. He never presses in, keeps his touch as gentle as possible. Nothing more than a whisper of skin on skin as he sketches designs of intricate whorls and careful symmetry along the canvas of Gabriel’s back.

When the archangel gives a soft sigh, pressing back in a way that means he’s probably not even aware he’s doing so, that’s when Sam ventures higher, to where the skin is tight and warm, and broken in places he can’t feel, but he knows are there. His heart is beating a million miles a minute, but he keeps his touch slow and soft, tries not to let Gabriel know how nervous he is. When he brushes across Gabriel’s shoulder blades, the archangel moans, and Sam freezes.

Gabriel reaches back, presses a hand over Sam’s knee where it’s bent, his leg folded beneath him. “Don’t stop,” he murmurs. “Feels good. First time it hasn’t hurt since Dad brought me back.”

Sam releases a breath and slowly begins to move again, fingers mapping out the bumps and ridges of Gabriel’s spine, tracing across, spanning, spiraling outward. The non-rhythm quiets his mind, and that’s a first for him as well. Since coming back, there’s been nothing but a cacophony of sound, and this is so peaceful by contrast.

“How’d you know?” Gabriel asks after a while.

Sam hesitates, not sure if he’ll really want to know, but decides that they deserve honesty from each other. “When we fell, Michael didn’t know enough to fold his wings into his vessel. He was trying to escape, and his wings…were shredded. Burned away. I can’t…the agony he must have been in… Lucifer did this for him, when we finally landed. I…remember that it seemed to help. I was hoping…”

“Thank you,” Gabriel says quietly. “And thanks for telling me.”

Sam responds by passing his hands one more time across the expanse of Gabriel’s back, smiles when the archangel sighs again, his muscles bunching and moving beneath Sam’s fingers as he stretches and shifts. The hunter lets his fingers fall away when Gabriel turns to face him.

“Wish there was something I could do for you, kiddo.”

“I’m okay, Gabriel,” Sam says, backing it up with a smile. And the funny thing is, he really is. Right now, being here, helping Gabriel, is the closest to normal he’s felt since plummeting into Hell.

Gabriel brushes a thumb beneath Sam’s ruined eyes before he shifts again, leaning forward to press a kiss to each of them in turn. Sam feels the archangel’s breath ghost across his face, and it’s the hunter who moves to capture Gabriel’s lips with his own.

He finds that this is easy, the first thing that’s felt simple and uncomplicated and _real_ since God brought him back, since Cas was left to explain to him what had happened, why he’d never see again.

His hands move up and around, softly stroke up and down Gabriel’s spine, and as Gabriel shivers and presses closer, Sam thinks that maybe he can admit that they need each other after all.

Somehow, it’s no longer an idea that bothers him.

-  



End file.
